


The Wager

by whimsicalmuse



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (2011) RPF
Genre: Costume Kink, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Costumes, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild S&M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris cajoles Tom into going to a party dressed as Merry and Pippin. They meet the real Merry and Pippin, there is UST and then a kinky Wager.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wager

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a prompt from some fandom friends who wanted a Monaboyd/Hiddlesworth mashup. It's nothing but smutty smut smut in costumes. Dom!Tom who bottoms and Dom!Billy with a side of sub!Dom and sub!Chris. Oh and erm, billiards. First post here, but alas, not my first jog around the porn block.

Tom’s scalp was itching and he felt bloody ridiculous in this get up. The waistcoat was a shade too big, the breeches (glorified capris) were drafty, and though it was LA, it was still cool enough in October to send a chill up his spindly legs, making the hair there stand on end. While the venue was superb, a sprawling beach house perched precariously on a cliff in Malibu, Tom wasn’t so sure the architecture would make up for his discomfort all night. Why had he deigned to humiliate himself so? Ah, yes, Hemsworth.

“Remind me again why I agreed to do this?” Tom glowered at his friend as he smoothed the wig’s curls.

“Because I asked so nicely before sucking your—“

“Right,” Tom cut him off with a clipped voice as they ascended the stairs and well within earshot of others. “And they say I’m to play the one with a silver tongue.” He scratched his scalp as he gave Chris the side eye.

“No one said you had to wear the wig,” Chris smiled as he pinged a curl. “You have hobbit hair anyway.”

“Hobbit hair which is currently black as you may recall,” Tom sniffed, a little sore to be reminded of the curly disaster that passed for his coif. “I don’t want to pass as the wrong hobbit. Besides, this makes me look more authentic. At least you’re already blonde.”

“I personally think curling my hair was a bit unnecessary though,” Chris brushed against him, their fingertips ghosting against each other as they approached the entryway. Tom felt something coil in his stomach at the sight of Chris’ smirk. Curling his hair had been absolutely necessary as it was punishment for the cheek Chris been giving Tom in the days leading up to this damned party. Plus, Chris had burned himself trying to do the job on his own, and Tom had to apply ice and his tongue to sooth the stripe of red on the back of his neck.  “Now all you have to do is put on a smashing Scottish accent. “

Tom smirked, his tongue already falling into just the position to create Pippin’s lilt. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem, Merry.”

Chris smiled at the hostess and held the door open. “Well come on then, Pip.”

*

As parties in LA go, it was pretty standard issue. Fame whores, cokeheads, directors and groupies. Publicists hissing in the corners on cellphones, haphazard costumes slapped on to fit in. There was a large pool shaped like a kidney bean, and shirtless waiters glided through the crowd, offering fancy bites of something, and there was a piñata being swung in the shape of an Angry Bird.

Thor wrapped but hadn’t hit theaters yet, so they still enjoyed the relative anonymity of the not quite outrageously famous, and for once Tom was glad for it. He had the cheek to show up to a hobbit party dressed as a hobbit. That sort of behavior was what you might see at a convention, not off of Mulholland drive. Still, it was obvious that Chris was enjoying himself. They’d already been chatted up by a few actors and had a rousing discussion with Sean Astin, who graciously complimented their costumes, discussed the latest book he was writing, and asked for their support to purify bad water in Nigeria. When Astin left Chris blushed, and confessed that he’d loved Sean in Goonies growing up. The strings of orange Christmas lights glowed in his eyes like a demented jack o lantern, and the man looked happy. And a happy puppy meant a happy Tom, thus bringing everything full circle.

There was a reunion between men and elves around the buffet table, and were it not for the fact that Tom and Chris were more than a foot taller than all of the actual hobbits, the old cast mates might have thought the men were the real McCoy. As it was Elijah Wood accosted them, pulled Chris from a friendly headlock with Orlando, and squealed like a bug eyed girl.

“Fucking hell, you guys look amazeballs.” Wood patted them on their arms affectionately, and Tom was briefly distracted by the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Have Dom and Billy seen you yet?”

“Erm, no,” Tom smiled. “We arrived not long ago.”

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Viggo smirked, winking at Hemsworth. Tom suppressed the urge to stick his hand in ‘Merry’s’ waistcoat pocket.

“You’re goddamn right it is,” Elijah agreed, speaking just this side of too loud. There was a pretty flush on his milky cheeks and Tom suspected Frodo had been in his cups. “Come on.” He shoved his clove cigarette to the side of his lush mouth to take a hearty swig from something neon and toxic looking that sloshed in his plastic cup. “Let’s go find the old married couple.”

Elijah was smaller, and dressed more casually in what he told the men was a DJ Lance rock costume, and as such he found it easier to maneuver through the crowd, save for a few times when he lost the furry tribble that had taken up residence upon his head.

He stopped and kissed a scruffy man who was not much taller than him.

“Guys, this is Shox, Shox, this is Thor and Loki.” And while Shox was eyeing them drunkenly, Elijah rifled through the man’s pockets and stole another cigarette. “Yo man, you seen Billy and Dom?”

“Last I seen they were playing beer pong with Quinto,” Shox mumbled, blinking at Tom and Chris as if he just realized they were there. “Thor, huh? I fucking loved that show when I was a kid.”

“It was a comic,” Tome corrected dryly.

“Oh,” Shox grinned slowly. “Whatever man, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Chris narrowed his eyes in confusion and Tom gave him a quick nod before trailing after Elijah who had darted off like a hummingbird.

“Still not quite sure I understand these Americans,” Chris mused as he dodged being tackled by a woman wearing dental floss and saline implants.

“You and I both, love.”

The site of this so called beer pong was a rec room tucked deep in the bowels of the mansion. Less people clogged the hallways and rooms, and the only sounds were the reverb from the bass and the occasional squeals of someone being tossed into the pool. Thick smoke nearly choked Tom and Chris when they arrived, the lone ceiling fan doing nothing to dispel the plume of cig and weed fumes. A cut black man was slumped in a chair in the corner, watching what sounded like sports highlights, and true to his word, the man Tom recognized as none other than Mr. Spock himself was there. He was playing doubles with Captain Kirk the younger, and from the looks of things, they were kicking the hobbits asses.

“Come now, Boyd, I do believe you can start this round,” Quinto beamed, his smile just this side of sharp. Tom appreciated the subtlety and made a note to try something similar in the mirror when he got home. “Age before beauty and all.”

Billy, who hadn’t spared them a glance, snorted.

“Big talk for a man that’s about to lose the shirt on his back,” his companion, Monaghan sneered. “You did agree to double or nothing. It just takes us a moment to get traction is all.”

“Perhaps a few inches would help?” Pine smirked, his smile warming when Quinto squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

“We have all we need in inches right here,” Dom stuck an impossibly long tongue out and grabbed himself obscenely. The whole effect was made all the more ridiculous, as he had a replica of Loki’s helmet perched on his head. And his eyeliner was smeared.

“If you say so,” Quinto replied loftily. “Personally I suspect a demonstration—“

“Enough,” Billy cut through the chatter, jade eyes fixed on Zach, and served the pong. There was a vicious exchange long enough to make everyone watching dizzy, until Pine miscalculated Dom’s serve and the ball clattered to the floor. Jeers rung through the room as Quinto and Pine flipped the hobbits off but dutifully chugged their cups down.

The hobbits took the lull to finally access their visitors, and Elijah hauled Tom and Chris closer to the table for proper introductions.

“Lads,” Elijah exhaled a cloud of smoke and put a stubby hand on Billy’s shoulder gently. “These are your biggest fans, Thor and Loki.”

“Charmed,” Billy eyed them both, his eyes resting on Tom for a moment. Something just this side of interest and maybe even a lick of intimidation fluttered in Tom’s stomach but he tamped it down and extended his hand.

“Peregrin Took,” he gestured to Chris. “Merry.”

“Naturally,” Dom rumbled, and Tom was struck by the similarities between the timbre of Monaghan and Hemsworth’s voices. Dom’s glittering eyes, the pouty set of his mouth, and his languid posture did something to Tom, and he felt that same raw pang he felt for Billy in his belly. He briefly wondered what that voice would sound like breathless and well fucked, and surprised himself when his cock twitched with interest.

“Pleasure to meet you mate,” Chris shook their hands, all affable smiles and sunshine eyes. “We were big fans of the movies, yeah?”

“Glad to hear it,” Dom smiled. “When Emilie said she was friends with you I said man, I’ve got to get Thor to come to me party.”

Tom nodded, stealing glances at Boyd. He recognized that stance, the legs brace far apart in a power stance. He stood behind Dom, hips canted in the direction of Dom’s ass, and now and again his eyes would flicker to the side of Dom’s neck where, below the neckline of his ripped tee shirt, Tom spied the shadow of a healing bruise.

Ah, so they were birds of a feather then.

“When I invited Thor, I should have known I would get Loki too,” Dom shook his hand lightly, and Tom noticed a slight tremor there, from excitement or some narcotic Tom wasn’t sure. Perhaps both. His hands were soft, and willowy as a bird’s.

“Yes, well, we are a bit of a package deal these days,” Tom smiled, trying his hand at Quinto’s expression and deciding it was satisfactory based on the way Dominic’s pupils dilated.

“So,” Billy’s tongue darted out to moisten his full bottom lip, and Tom watched as Chris swallowed thickly. Interesting, yes, this could get very interesting indeed. “I don’t know about you lot but I’m a wee bit sick of this beer pong shite. Whatdoya say we pick another game?”

“And another wager?” Tom queried, a smile playing at his lips. He hoped Billy took it the wrong way.

“Aye,” Billy agreed, pressing fingers into the small of Dom’s back to get him moving. “A battle between gods and hobbits.”

 “We’re going to eat you alive,” Dom flicked Chris’ nipple as he passed him.

“I look forward to it,” Chris beamed, his smile widening when Tom slipped his hands into the back of his breeches and slid his nails across the small of his back as a warning.

Quinto and Pine pulled themselves from a private conversation to nod at Boyd.

“What do you say, Billy. A draw?” Zach’s eyes flickered over to Chris and Tom, and he didn’t bother to hide his smirk.

“Fuck no,” Billy snorted. “I expect my payment before we leave. Come on, lads.”

Tom followed Billy, smiling as he heard Quinto mutter about how the Scot managed to swindle them into payment when he lost the wager.

“He played a loan shark once,” Dom chipped in with a wink.

Billy led them deeper into the house, a few doors down from the rec room, to a dark billiards room. Two elaborate pool tables divided the space, and there were plush chairs spattered all through the room. The room was devoid of any windows save a few skylights, and there were two doors, one leading to what Tom assumed was a side yard.

When Chris filed in last, Billy patted him on the back gently and closed the door with a resounding finality.

“So, I dunno about you lot but I’m not a big fan of formality and beating around the bush,” Billy declared as he scrutinized the rack of pool sticks and selected one. “So allow me to be clear; your pet amuses me, and I want to use him, Tom.”

“Do you?” Tom asked conversationally, thrilled when Chris squirmed beside him. “I’m not quite sure I’m inclined to share him,” he watched how Dom’s teeth caught his bottom lip and fought to control his voice. “But I am not averse to a bargaining for a trade.”

He slid his eyes back over to Billy, who smiled. “Then it’s sorted. We’ll have a game. The winner gets the spoils,” Dom definitely squirmed excitedly and Tom suspected Billy had so much fun getting him to be still. “And the loser has to watch.”

“Don’t we get a say in this,” Chris licked his lips, head bowed as he looked through the swath of hair that loved to fall in his face. “I mean, full consent and all that.”

“What have you to add to these negotiations, pup?” Tom cocked his head.

“Well, how about a four way wager?” He swallowed and cut a glance over to Dom, who smirked in obvious agreement. “If-if we win—“

“We get to decide how this will play out.” Dom finished.

“Dommie—“

“Please, Bills.” Monaghan breathed, sliding into the older man’s space. He curled his hands into Boyd’s shirt and hissed something low in his ear. Billy laughed.

“You have persuaded me. Well, Tom, what say you?”

Tom motioned for Chris to come to him, and when the man did he fisted his hair. “You have stepped out of line, princess.”

“I know,” Chris squirmed. “But, please Tom, I’ll do anything, I’ll—“

“You’ll do what I say no matter that promises fall from your lips as it is what sort of bargaining chip can you level at me now?”

Boyd and Monaghan watched with open interest.

Tom leaned ever closer, until he could smell the spice of Chris’ aftershave and see the blush creep from his chest across his neck and up to the fine plane of his cheeks. Delicious.

“I’ll let you fuck me.” Chris’ breath gushed out and his eye squished tight in spite of his proposal. That had been the last barrier between them, influenced perhaps by Chris’ macho upbringing in the wilds of the outback. Or maybe it was a personal thing. It was fine and dandy to be flogged, bitten, slapped, and near maimed, so long as you weren’t the one taking it up the ass.

“You’re sure?” Tom held his gaze, making sure he wasn’t pushing himself too far. There was nothing wrong with limits, and Tom had no compunction about bottoming so long as Chris knew who was boss.

“Positive,” Chris’ fingers wrapped around Tom’s thin wrists and gave a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “You can take me here after if you want,” he added with a breathless laugh.

“Oh no,” Tom murmured, hands finding the meaty ridges that constituted Chris’s stomach. “I won’t be sharing that with anyone.”

Chris gave a full body shiver, and nodded.

“Well,” Dom drawled. “Now that negotiations have been sorted, shall we?”

Billy used the back of his stick to swat Dom in the ass, and then set the table up. Chris went to the chalkboard and wrote their names in his scrawl, and then turned around. “Best of three?”

“Fuck no,” Dom snorted. “I’m walking bowlegged here, Hemsworth. One and done.”

“Be sure to give it your best,” Billy smirked.

Chris looked at the two men, then slid his eyes across Tom, and set his jaw stubbornly. “Alright.”

 

The game itself was a terse quiet event punctuated by several invasions of personal space and heavier than necessary breathing. In between turns Billy and Dom razzed each other, flicked ears, swiped at legs, anything they could do to cheat and disrupt concentration.

It didn’t seem to be working.

Tom and Chris simply leaned into one another, watching the hobbits bicker; Tom used the distraction to press Chris once again for more.

“Chris,” Tom glanced at him sideways and then curled his hands into Chris’ hair. “You’re really sure about this? Because if you lose, I won’t hold back unless you say the word, do you understand—“

“I’m banking on it,” Chris replied with a tight voice, his gaze fixed on the nearest ball. He pushed up from the wall and threw a look that normally earned him a round of flogging on his knees on the hard tile of his floor back at their movie issued apartment. Tom moved, intent on following the bait, and was blocked by Billy’s pool stick.

“Let’s save it for the after party, no?”

Tom slapped Billy’s stick out of the way with a smile, and took his shot.

The game was tied three ways.

In the end, it came down to one shot. Chris went first, and his ball sank loud and true. Tom went next, lithe body pressed against the soft velour, and just as he took his shot, he felt the slightest brush of hot fingers against this hip. The stick flickered, brushing against the ball listlessly. Tom swerved around, anger and desire neck and neck as he took in Dom’s mischievous stormy eyes, and before he could think his long fingers were wrapped round Dom’s long neck, pressing just hard enough to be a threat and a promise.

“I suspect you’ll pay for that, Monaghan.” He hissed, further incensed by the man’s slow smile.

“Go on, Dommie,” Billy replied, sounding half bored by his friend’s antics. “Take your shot so one of us can whip your arse when we’re through.”

“Aye aye,” Dom sniffed, and with a wholly unnecessary shimmy canted his ass and took his shot. Billy whacked him in the knee at just the right time and his was a miss not unlike Tom’s. Boyd cocked his eyebrow, at the man’s indignant expression and Tom smirked in approval.

“Well, I suppose it’s my turn then.” Billy drawled. His wasn’t an easy shot by any means, and Tom noted through is bravado just the slightest hint of apprehension that seemed to pinch his face. He positioned himself, steadied his stick, deftly dodged Dom’s sloppy attempt to fuck up his shot, and moved. The ball ricocheted off the wall, just as it was supposed to, collided with Tom’s orphaned ball, and then slid toward its home.

It stopped mere millimeters from the edge, and wouldn’t budge. Billy let out a slow breath that turned into a whistle and turned to shake Chris’ hand. “You won fair and square, Chris.”

Chris blushed prettily, ducked his head briefly before putting on the stern face Tom had associated with Thor. “In truth, it was perhaps an unfair advantage to have little men compete among gods.”

“Nonsense, brother.” Tom replied, pleased when Dom stilled at the sound of his sibilant voice. “These men knew the risks when they made their wager.” He raked his eyes across Chris, and then Dom. “Now it is time for them to suffer the consequences.”

“I know better than to argue with my brother,” Chris boomed with an easy smile. “I should think there is no reason for all of us not to acquire a bit of that which we desire, Loki.”

Billy and Tom cocked their eyebrows. “Oh, and how is that, Thor?”

Chris took a shuddery breath, and licked his lips. “I should think we could start…”

*

Tom had to admit, as he shoved Dominic down onto his bony knees, and then tugged at the man’s big round ears, that Chris had come up with a very diplomatic solution.

“Now, I do believe a bit of retribution is in order for your outrageous cheating, Mr. Monaghan.”

“Sure thing, Tom.” Dom breathed his voice already thick with want and oh, the smolder in his eyes and the smirk on his lips was delicious. Tom fisted the longest patch of his hair.

 

“You shall address me as sir, until I tell you otherwise, is that understood Dominic?”

“Yes sir,” Dom swallowed his voice just this side of insolent. No matter, Tom could sort that out readily. Provided he was not distracted by the sight of Chris bent across a table at the waist, his back glittering in the low light from the sheen of sweat. Thick angry welts already were raised from where Billy had started right off with a few rounds from his belt. Billy murmured something low in Chris’ ear, his voice nearly slurred from his thick brogue, and between that and Chris’ corresponding moan, Tom very nearly came in his pants. He had to focus.

“Now,” Tom swallowed, and tore his eyes away. “Growing up I was never very fond of cheaters,” He began, his voice taking on a conversational tone as he flicked one of Dom’s pink nipples until it stood to attention. “I felt that cheaters were a rather lazy sort who hoped to piggyback into the efforts of those more diligent than them.” His nails scraped around the pink nub, and then in a flash squeezed and twisted until Dom hitched his breath. Good.

“So, to compensate for your naughty habit, you’re going to work for what release I may feel like giving you, are we clear, Dommie?”

Dominic’s lids fell, and he nearly took just a beat too long before he groaned, “Yes.”

Tom slapped him. “I won’t ask again, Dominic. Do you understand me?”

Steely grey glittered up at him. “Yes, sir.”

“Just so.” Tom smiled, and then hauled him up by his belt loops.

Once on his feet Tom surveyed Dom, noting every freckle, the smooth plane of his narrow back, the shapely v of his narrow waist. He raked his nails through the thin patch of hair on his chest, and slid clever fingers beneath the belt, to brush against the hot thatch of hair. His fingers delved deeper, closer to the hardened length that was radiating molten heat even through the denim, and he stopped just before he made contact. Perhaps, if he had been a good boy, Tom might have jerked him off before he put him through paces. But Dom had not been a good boy.

Tom squared his shoulders and rested his fingertips into the other palm. “Present yourself.” His voice was soft as a dandelion but Dom snapped to attention, drawing his trousers down, his cock flushed and bobbing when freed. Tom pressed the palm of his hand over his head, firm pressure easing Dom onto his knees and when Dom didn’t give fast enough Tom shoved, satisfied by the grunt of pain and the crack of bone against travertine.

There was a stifled sob and a whimper behind him, and even though Tom didn’t tear his eyes away from Dom’s he could see the silhouette of Billy. Chris was still bent in half, pants now at his ankles, and Tom could make out the shape of Billy curled against him like a viper, his clever hands at work between Chris’ thighs.

“…Don’t you dare come, do you understand? You will hold out until I tell you too…”

Tom swallowed, and focused his attention onto Dom and Dom’s cock. The head was fully exposed and glistening, and his dusky balls hung heavy below, flushed against the pale expanse of his thighs.

“Impressive, Monaghan.” Tom crouched so he was eye level with Dom. “It would seem that was one thing you were genuine about.”

“Yes sir,” Dom murmured.

Tom studied his person again, contemplating which of many evils he might inflict upon the man when inspiration struck at the sight of his wrists.

Dominic Monaghan was wearing cock rings as jewelry.

Tom yanked the band from Dom’s narrow wrists. “Are you always so prepared, Dominic?”

Dom hissed as Tom took him in a firm grip, and gave him a few brutal strokes, sliding the wetness down his shaft.

“Hope springs eternal, sir,” Dom breathed with a hitch when Tom ran a fingernail across his cock head.

“Yes, it does,” Tom said as stood and unbuckled his pants. The hot air of the room felt delicious on his engorged cock and he stifled a sigh. “Now open up, Monaghan. You have work to do.”

Dominic’s mouth was as fucking clever around cock as it was when gabbing, Tom thought as the smaller man shifted on his knees to take more of him in. His long, hot tongue pulled back to swirl at the tip, pushing the sensitive foreskin back to expose more head, before diving back in again. Tom grabbed him by the ears, breath coming out in puffs as he struggled to hold it together because it was so very good.

Dominic’s mouth was smaller than Chris’ and his teeth were a little crooked in the back so when he slid his cock gently along the ridges, the uneven edges sent shocks to his spine. And Dom was an enthusiastic cock sucker, his voice rumbling with contented little hums as he sucked dick like a bloody professional. When Dom curled his hands into the fabric of Tom’s breeches he slapped his hands away, and then grabbed his chin and gave him a warning glare.

Dom sucked him anew, his slurps might have been obscene were it not for the sounds of Billy rubbing the cleft of Chris’ ass, the slick of their precome just enough to echo sound in the room.

“I bet you want me to fuck you like this, hm?” Billy crooned as his hand jerked Chris in front of him, slowing to an agonizing crawl now and again.

“No,” Chris choked out and shook his head.

“No?” Billy laughed a little breathless. “Saving it for someone special then? You want your Thomas to be the one to fuck you proper is it? Take you like a blushing virgin?” Billy’s hips sped up and he pinched Chris’ flank ruthlessly. “Tell me Chris, is that what you want? You want Hiddleston to be your first?”

Dom’s gaze was fixed on Tom as he watched the pair, and when Tom looked away from them he felt a flare of jumbled emotions, possessiveness and spite entwined together. He fisted Dom’s hair again, and held him still so he could properly fuck his mouth, fuck deep and hard until Dom gagged or swallowed him whole.

“I bet you do, I bet you’d like him to fuck you right here and now, wouldn’t you lad? You want Tom to spread your legs right here in front of us and fuck you to kingdom come?”

Tom knew from Chris’ voice that he was agonizingly close, and his balls tightened up against his own body.

“In fact, you would have let him fuck you no matter the bet, is that right, Chris?”

Dom pulled back again, swirled his tongue, but Tom was not to be swayed or distracted and with a growl he pressed the back of his head until he felt his cockhead hit throat.

“Answer me, Chris.”

There was a keening noise, and then Chris choked out, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Billy gasped triumphantly, his arm curling in a cruel arc.

“Yes, I wanted him to fuck me no matter what.” Chris breathed, and then Tom was coming, liquid fire unfolding from his balls, down his cock, and into the moist vice of Dom’s throat. He fucked Dom’s mouth through the aftershocks, allowing a low moan as he heard Chris fall apart, followed closely by Billy’s low groan.

“Ah, but he’s a pretty one, isn’t he?” Billy mouthed wet kisses against the warm tan curve of Chris’ back. “I can certainly see the appeal.”

Tom struggled to get his heartbeat back in control, and he raked a hand through his own damp hair, the wig having been tossed long ago.

“Get up,” he commanded with a soft voice, and Dom obliged. His cock was a weeping wreck, still proud and ready, thanks to the cock ring. Tom shoved him back onto a chair, pleased when Dom tripped over his own feet thanks to the pants at his ankles. Billy was introducing Chris to the finer points of over sensitized aftershocks, and Tom smirked as he yanked off Dom’s pants.

“Spread your legs” Tom ordered raking nails through the wiry hair. He wrapped a hand around Dom’s ankles and tilted, pleased to see how flexible the man was. He could fold him in half and fuck him right here in this chair and he’d take it.  He brushed the tips of his fingers onto Dom’s cockhead and gathered the precome that had pooled there, spreading it further down below in rapid swipes. Then, he ran his nail past Dom’s balls, the sharp point sliding around his puckered asshole, and he slid in dry, relishing Dom’s sharp cry.

“I know you can take this,” Tom murmured as he pressed deeper into the heat, past the first knuckle.

Dom panted, in part from the intrusion, and partly from the sharp angle Tom held his legs. When he felt the tension melt from Dom’s thighs he slid a second finger in. Just as before Dom wheezed, stuttered, and then stilled. When he took a cleansing breath Tom hooked his fingers just so, sweeping across that spongy bundle of nerves and then curled forward and sucked Dom’s weeping cock. He took him deep, until he nearly couldn’t breathe, his dick already twitching with interest from the mewling broken sound Dom was making. He hollowed his cheeks, fingers still crooked and wrecking, and through the roar of the blood in his ears he realized both Dom and Chris were babbling nonsense, both too far gone to care anymore about appearances. Their only thought was on relief and release.

Tom pulled back; fingers still in a vicious motion and hot satisfaction bloomed when he saw the open raw expression on Dom’s face. It was fucking perfect. He let go of Dom’s leg, giving him a silent command to hold the position, and slid further up, sliding his tongue into Dom’s mouth, flicking against his sharp tongue, tasting his own come in his mouth. He nipped at the full lip, just hard enough to bring a flush of blood to the surface, and then slid back down to take him in his mouth just a little longer. Dom’s hips moved of their own volition and Tom decided to let it slide. He waited, pushed, two, three more times, and then in a swift motion pulled the cock ring off and dipped his head down, not stopping until he felt Dom brush against his throat. His hand jerked a few more times, increasing in speed with the intensity of Dom’s keening pleas and then Dom stuttered and arched like a bow, salty bitter streams of come filling Tom’s mouth. Tom sucked until Dom shivered and twitched, sucked long after that, still attacking his asshole, and just as Dom shifted from whimpers to careless wailing, the man came again in dry spasms in Tom’s mouth.

Tom slid back, too pleased to hide the smile on his face, and pulled his fingers out, wiping them on Dom’s shirt for spite. He was half hard again, but had a suspicion that the boys might need a moment to recover. Billy wandered over; giving Tom a loaded look, probably not unlike the look Tom suspected he wore. And then Billy curled his hand on the back of Tom’s neck affectionately, and slid his tongue between Tom’s lips. This wasn’t a delicate kiss, it was languid, but aggressive, half teeth and bumping noses. They kissed like they wanted to draw every scrap of the taste of their lover from each other’s lips. When they pulled apart, Tom suspected they just might have.

Tom smirked. “Boyd.” He buckled his pants and padded over to Chris, who was sprawled on the pool table, limbs akimbo.

Billy sat on the armrest, smiling folding down at Dom’s panting body, and ran a thumb across Monaghan’s bruised bottom lip.

“Man, fuck me, Billy.” Dom moaned as he tried (and failed) to pull himself together.

“I’m pretty sure Hiddleston did a fair job of that on his own, no?”

Dom glowered, and lifted his head up a notch to squint over at Tom and Chris. “How did the other guy do?”

Billy wrinkled his nose and smiled. “I believe he said he saw angels.”

Chris groaned in agreement beside Tom and thumped his head back against the table.

Tom and Billy waited patiently for their pets to recover. Billy stole out briefly and returned with warm wash cloths. Tom gingerly swiped away the come between Chris’ thighs, something thick and sharp stabbing him in the chest as he did so. He enjoyed their wager, but he had this niggling desire to set things right, restore the order in his universe to the way it was supposed to be. When Chris felt well enough to sit up he stood between his legs and rubbed his hands across Chris’ taunt skin, fingernails raking all the secret places he knew Chris liked best.

Dom and Billy stole outside citing the desperate need for a ciggy, and Tom waved them off. He only had eyes for Chris at the moment. Chris looked behind him, at the ceiling, everywhere but at him, until Tom held his face in place and stilled him with a sweet kiss. He could feel the tension slipping from his shoulders, and he smiled.

“Alright, Chris?”  He brushed Chris’ bangs back.

“Yes,” Chris rumbled, and then sucked on his lips until Tom conceded defeat, and started sweeping his tongue in the sweetest parts of Chris’ mouth until Chris was hard and whimpering beneath his fingers.

“Want you, Tom,” Chris panted against his lips, his fingers grasping at Tom’s shirt nervously. “Please.”

Tom tucked his head to slide teeth across Chris’ neck, throwing caution to the side as he let his teeth sink into the hot pliable cords of Chris’ neck and mark. His tongue swiped at the bruise apologetically, and he pulled back to suck on Chris’ tongue once more.

“Yes, princess.”

Chris scrambled to his feet, his legs still wobbly and Tom pulled them from the uncomfortable pool table to the nice, sensible couch against the wall. The back door was open and Tom could smell and see the tendrils of smoke that presumably came from Dom and Billy. They heard snatches of their conversation now and again, but none of it made sense. Perhaps it was the sex. Tom wasn’t sure.

Neither Chris nor Tom wanted to drag this out; there was a simmering tension that curled beneath Tom’s skin. He wanted Christ to tamp it out with each thrust of his hips. Chris ran his hands across Tom’s bare hips lovingly, and dug his waistcoat off the floor to dig in his pocket, producing a small packet of lube and a condom with a crooked grin.

Tom cocked his eyebrow, but held his tongue, not sure what would come sliding out of his mouth. He felt raw, and powerful, and very, very, possessive. Chris made short work of preparing him, the motions well-rehearsed and loved. And then he was sliding home, filling Tom up so much it bordered on too much and painful, and Tom loved it. He groaned loudly into the crook of his arms, his back bent like a table for Chris to drape across as he rocked into him. He moaned with Tom, his lips brushing across the nape of Tom’s neck, mouthing silent nonsense onto his skin with hot breath. The room was still save for the hot cycling of their breaths and the soft squelch of their bodies where they were connected. Tom rocked on his heels and arched onto the balls of his feet so he could take Chris in deeper, and he obliged, grasping his hips with firm hands, as he fucked into him with abandon. Normally Tom would be calling the shots, dangling their release along like a string, but he was too raw, and wanted too much for that. Best to concede to the natural give and pull, ebb and flow of their bodies and they rocked together with a force so great the couch groaned underneath them.

Chris slid trembling fingers into the patch of hair above Tom’s cock, pausing hesitantly, silently asking for permission and Tom nodded with a hiss. And then Chris’ meaty fingers were closing around his prick, squeezing just so at the base, before sliding in a practiced rhythm up toward the head. He planted his hot cheek against Tom’s back, their breaths, hitched and canted to the frantic pace of their bodies, and Chris was babbling again, murmured declarations of love, love of the act, and love for Tom. Tom shuddered, and clamped down around Chris, back bowed, and Chris’s keening was enough to send Tom stumbling over the edge, coating Chris’ fingers with his seed.

They paused a moment to catch their breath, Tom rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of the sofa. In the stillness they heard the unmistakable sounds of hitching breath, and through the open door they could make out the shadows of Dom and Billy. Dom was on his knees again; his head disappearing into the clumpy shadows that Tom assumed was Billy as he leaned against the wall.

Tom let out an amused gush of air. “It’s nice to know we aren’t the only ones that are insatiable.”

Chris nuzzled Tom’s jaw and smiled. “They’ve been going at it nearly as long as we have.” His voice was a sensuous rumble, and it made Tom’s stomach clench.  They needed to go home. Sleep, eat, and recover, so that the next time they were tangled together, he’d be plunging into Chris’ sweet heat, but not before he tore him apart with this fingers and tongue. Not until he rendered him a shivering, sweating wreck, begging for Tom to fuck him. And it would be so good.

Chris sighed, and slid his hand down Tom’s back. Tom hummed in tired agreement, and pulled his waistcoat on.

“Come on, Pip.” Chris grinned, his eyes bright with amusement, as if he knew exactly what Tom had been contemplating. Perhaps he did. “It’s best with get home.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Tom teased, as they discreetly slipped out the door, back to the din of the party. “How many meals have we missed here?”

Chris slung an arm around Tom’s shoulders, and shook his head.  “You tell me.”

Tom smirked and did just that. 


End file.
